The bouncing umbrella leads us through Kyoto's Heian Shrine.

The package tour - a game of follow-the-leader played at warp speed

The afternoon was getting brighter as our bus crawled through traffic for several blocks until we reached what appeared to be the epicenter of the traffic jam, the Heian Shrine in downtown Kyoto's Sakyoo ward. Even without the cherry blossoms blooming everywhere, this would have been one of the most spectacularly colorful locales of our stay in Kyoto. Built in 1895 he shrine itself is framed in bright orange and accented in shining gold. It is at the far end of a dramatic courtyard, reminiscent of the entrance to China's Forbidden City.

In the shrine, our guide, a hyper-energetic woman in her early forties with fairly good English skills, explains how we can make an offering to the Shinto deities for luck and prosperity. First, toss a five-yen coin into the collection box ("go yen" means both "five yen" and "good luck," so it is the most appropriate coin to offer). Then, pull the bell-rope and clap twice and to get the gods' attention (with Buddhist gods, no clapping or ringing is necessary--they apparently pay closer attention to our mortal wishes). Press your palms together and bow your head while you pray. When done, clap sharply one more time. Our tour bus somehow squeezed into a space in the parking lot and we were quickly ushered out and onto the grounds of the shrine. We followed a fast-moving stream of other visitors through the shrine's famously beautiful garden and were then herded back onto the tour bus to our next stop, Sanjusangendo Hall.

Our guide did an admirable job of passing the time in traffic, explaining how the Japanese have grown to accept and practice both the Shinto and Buddhist faiths. The Shinto ceremonies are often used to celebrate happy events like weddings and births. Buddhist rites are followed for the more somber ones. A large proportion of Japanese are registered in both faiths. Registering one's religion is a traditional practice in Japan that I can't imagine ever being considered in the freedom and privacy-loving western world.

A thousand and one bodhisattvas

Sanjusangendo Hall was in Kigomizudera ward, a quieter section of Kyoto and, being a primarily indoor venue without a proliferation of cherry blossoms, was not quite as crowded as the Heian Shrine. It was the remarkable result of over a hundred years of work performed in the twelfth century by the Hansoo sect, crafting one thousand and one statues of the Buddhist deity, Kannon. One thousand of the carvings were just under life-size, with a much larger version of the centerpiece. Each statue of the bodhisattva possessed eleven faces and one-thousand arms (a tremendous challenge to the wood-carver's art) and each held a slightly unique appearance and personality. The troop was protected by fifteen grotesque-looking guardians from Japanese-Buddhist legend and mythology. It was an amazing sight, but the guide and most of the tour had gained a hundred-statue lead on us, so her descriptions and explanations were difficult to hear.

Cherry blossom viewers crowd the famed wooden veranda of Kiyomizu Temple.

Our final stop was to be the Kiyomizu Temple. The hour was growing late and the traffic was thickening as the day wore on. As we drew closer, I was becoming certain that the vast majority of the city's population had the same idea as us and was headed towards the same venue. Indeed, this grand temple with its imposing structures, surrounding blossom-covered hillsides and breathtaking view of the entire city was probably one of the most picturesque places to be on this unique weekend. Our bus parked next to at least a dozen others at the entrance to a quaint, but rather long lane that led up to the temple. I would learn that the Shotengai or shopping street was similar to many others leading up to Japan's most popular historical attractions. It was lined with small shops selling souvenirs, gifts, snacks and distinctively local foods. The interiors of the compact stores, however, offered far more breathing room than the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds flooding the street like a turbid stream of humanity.

By the time we had finished constantly steepening ascent, my energy had ebbed and my nerves had frayed. Not even the view from the temple's famed wooden veranda or a sip of water from the health, longevity and prosperity-giving spring could rejuvenate me. My only clear memory of the event was the image of being moved along by a tide of tourists up and down the narrow shopping street. Exhausted and on something less than the best of terms, my wife and I finally boarded the bus that would take us back to our hotel. We both were able to finally relax and started looking forward to a quiet dinner and a good night's sleep.

A Welcome Rest

Night had fallen by the time we had checked in and settled into our room. The hotel was part of the same chain as the first we stayed in and the rooms were nearly identical. This would, in fact, also be the case for our two-night stay in Osaka. The Hearton Company who ran the chain was one of the few who offered reservations via the Internet. By being our online travel agent, my wife was able to shop for the best value, browse photos of the different types of rooms and even get us a modest discount by booking over the web. It took a few phone calls to finalize and confirm the reservations (which were hard to come by in Kyoto during cherry blossom time), but the rates were quite reasonable for rooms in the center of a major city during a peak tourist period.

In this room, we were fairly high up and would discover that we had a beautiful view of the city and the hills to the east. We watched TV for awhile to unwind.

Thanks to a local station that runs subtitled Japanese programming on weekends, I have grown extremely fond of a lot of the country's distinctive approach to television. Unlike Hollywood, where anything more sophisticated than a sitcom is produced on film, Japanese TV dramas are nearly all produced on videotape. In many cases, the cinematic quality rivals and frequently exceeds anything we've ever seen on prime time. Lighting, camera work, editing. All the elements are produced with the care and imagination of a theatrical release production. The stories, often based on popular literature, can be touching, funny and profound. In may cases, subject matter is approached far more frankly than would be possible with the censorious media here. Even without the subtitles, the stories were often so well presented, I could follow along with my limited command of Japanese and some hints and guidance from my wife. We slept soundly that night, once again waking up promptly (but fortunately, briefly) at five a.m.

Next: Day 3 -

Home

Services

Current Writing

Resume

Journey to Japan

Kazz's Site

The Back Page